


Welcome, Robot

by Tando



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tando/pseuds/Tando
Summary: No one expected an android to show up at the Detroit Police headquarters claiming to be a detective, especially not Emma McMaghnuis, an officer known for her people skills who specializes in mental health. But while Emma is empathetic, Connor is logical and emotionless, or so he claims. So when the Detroit Police department becomes embroiled in cases of deviancy in androids, on top of mounting tensions within the department over officers getting replaced by androids, will Emma and Connor team up, or will their differences cause them to choose different sides?





	1. The Android Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> “Fear of the robotic future is now as strong as fear of migrants and refugees, and it is built on a lack of imagination...pessimists today argue that robots will replace manufacturing jobs, and leave humans with no jobs at all, because it is [hard] to imagine what comes next.”
> 
> Ruchir Sharma, The Rise and Fall of Nations

I approach the crowded bus stop, the afternoon sunset peeking out from behind the gleaming, crystalline skyline. One of the few perks of living so close to downtown is the view, getting to look up at the looming glass towers as I make my daily commute. 

The human section of the bus stop is overflowing, the bench is full and many more people stand, lean, or are otherwise scattered around the perimeter. However, the android section, a blue-painted rectangle on the concrete, has its fair share of androids standing on it. While their clothes are for the most part colorless and indistinct, the neon blue armbands on their right side, along with the matching triangles on their fronts and backs, mark them as androids.

As the bus pulls up to the station, the humans crowd to the front, each trying to be the first inside. I hang back as I look up at the bus’s tinted windows. The bus probably came in from deeper in the suburbs, most of the seats are already taken. There’s no rush for me to get a seat, standing’s a pain, but there’s probably someone in the crowd of commuters who needs it more than me. Either way, the ride’s pretty short from here to the police station. 

 

The ancient brick exterior of the main Detroit Police headquarters belies all the modern technology within it. As I swipe past the security checkpoint, I begin making my way past the lobby area. A decorative half wall with glass separates the walkway from the pit of desks, where a sparse number of officers work at their computers. As I make my way along the walkway to the locker room, I glance through the glass at the desks. I’m at least familiar with all the desk jockeys, so it caught my eye to spot a new face darting among the desks. In a very sharp gray semiformal jacket and tie, a man with dark, neatly parted hair and a tall forehead walks around the pit of desks in a jilted manner.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where Lieutenant Anderson is?” his tone is direct, awkward, and stiff. 

The officer he’s asking shakes his head, barely glancing at him, “No idea.”

I can only see this new recruit from his left side, but as he makes his stilted walk from one officer to the next, asking for the drunken Lieutenant, I can’t help but smile. New recruits always come in with a sort of vibrant enthusiasm, but this one seems to almost be taking it to the extreme. It’s endearing, kinda cute actually. And he’s not that bad looking, either…

My thought is cut off as he turns forward to face me, revealing the bright, neon blue triangle emblazoned on his chest. An android?! I can’t believe it, I just thought an android was attractive. That’s like saying I have a crush on my toaster.

I turn away and start walking faster, hoping nobody noticed my smiling and staring. But just then my worst fears are realized.

“Excuse me,” his voice is slightly more robotic than the average android’s, his footsteps perfectly paced as he approaches me.

I curl my lips, sucking in a breath. Sure, I was totally just staring at him, but he’s...no, it’s an android. It wouldn’t notice something like that, would it?

“My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife. I’m looking for Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Uhm, Lieutenant Anderson?” I stumble on my words, triggering a slight, almost miniscule tilt of Connor’s head.

“Yes...Lieutenant Anderson. I have been assigned to be his partner in the investigation of deviant androids.”

Connor’s reaction to mine, from his moment of confusion to his instinct to over-explain, on the surface is logical and utilitarian, as an android should be, but I can’t help but get the sense that something’s off, something about him-...I mean, it, is almost human.

“The Lieutenant’s probably at a bar, probably not too far from here,” I guess aloud, finally gaining recomposure.

The other officers around us start nodding in agreement. There’s another pause from Connor, as it’s once again confused, “A bar? According to his schedule he’s still on the clock.”

My expression twists into a worried frown, “Yeah. Things...haven’t been easy for him.”

“I see...and would you know exactly which bar I might find him at?” the LED circle on Connor’s right temple blinks yellow for a second before returning to blue, “I have just located twelve bars within the area. That’s quite a lot of ground to cover.”

I shake my head, “No, sorry, I don’t.”

“It’s a start. I will systematically search every bar within a two mile radius. I will also check his home address if that fails,” Connor confirms, its matter-of-fact tone both brimming and mechanical all at once. 

And with that, Connor turns around and marches right out of the station. I watch him go, my eyes linger on him as I process what exactly just happened. Sure we have android cops, mostly patrol units who mainly just give out parking tickets, but an android detective? And one so...human-like. 

Shaking off the thought, I keep walking and finally make it to the locker room. I come back out now properly dressed in my officer uniform.

“Emma!” a scruffy voice calls out to me, and I turn around to find Officer Reid Wilson, a man with a medium build, a trimmed beard, and a chipper disposition.

“Hey Reid,” I smile at him. We’d entered the force around the same time, and now we regularly get paired up on patrols and assignments.

“You saw what I saw, right?” he asks, adjusting the top of his afro.

I lower my eyebrows, shaking my head, “No, what do you mean?”

“The android! No one said anything about the DPD getting an android detective,” Reid chuckles with excitement, “I saw its uniform, an RK800 model. That’s gotta be way more advanced than the PC200s and PM700s we use as patrol officers.”

I shrug, “I guess. Figure it would be if it’s intelligent enough to qualify as a detective. I’ll bet the other detectives aren’t too pleased they’re being replaced.”

Reid nods, “Who would be?”

Reid and I approach a DPD car parked out in the lot behind the station, “We’ve already got reports of an EDP just a couple of blocks down. An android officer reported the person’s identity as Kevin Newman, unemployed, hasn’t had stable housing for three years. He’s apparently causing a bit of a disturbance downtown.”

“And they say Intervention officers are a waste of taxpayer money,” I smirk, “I only just clocked in and we already have a case.”

Reid and I are Mental Health Crisis Intervention officers, a somewhat new division of the police task force. Before, officers were just given basic training on handling a person in mental distress, but now, especially in Detroit, with the number of people experiencing hardship, the DPD had to turn mental health into its own specialized department.

Reid and I pull up on a small square downtown. The evening sky is cloudy and gloomy, as anonymous passersby make their way home from work. But there’s one figure, stumbling in the middle of the square, that sticks out like a sore thumb, and is the clear source of the called in “disturbance”.

“Beware! The android menace is here!” the disheveled man shouts into the street, as he darts at different people, hoping they’ll stop and hear him.

Reid raises his eyebrows, “I don’t know if this is a ‘mental health crisis’ more so than this guy is just crazy.” 

“I’ll handle this,” I volunteer.

Reid and I approach the man, but before we can introduce ourselves, he notices us first, “Oh thank god! Police! Seize these androids! All of them! They must be purged!”

My voice is calm, clear, and quiet, “Hi...your name is Kevin, right? My name’s Emma, and this is my partner, Officer Wilson.”

“You’ve got to stop them! They’re planning, something, I know it! I can see it in their eyes!” the man pleads, grabbing me by both shoulders.

Reid flinches, ready to intervene, but I shoot him a glance. In the man’s clutches, I keep my cool, “Who? The androids?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Kevin releases me, outstretching his arms, a pastor ready to preach, “They hate us! Humans, humanity, they want to be rid of what they can never possibly understand.”

Kevin glances around the street, before running over to a nearby android charging station, where two androids stand under its fluorescent blue light. They don’t acknowledge Kevin, their eyes locked in a forward position.

“So unassuming they appear, but inside, they are concocting devilish plans the world has never seen,” he turns back towards me before revealing, “one of them attacked me, you know.”

“Attacked you? How did it happen?” I ask.

“I was walking with some friends at night, through Grand Circus Park. We’d been drinking and thought it’d be fun to steal the gardening tools off of an android. And then it attacked us, like I’ve never seen before.”

I’m skeptical, but I’m careful not to show it in my expression, “That must have been awful for you.”

“It was...terrible. It nearly killed me, and all my friends. We thought, ‘what’s it gonna do’? It’s an android, it just does what it was programmed to do, no matter what you do to it. But you see now, they’re more than that. They’re dangerous.”

“Well, you can come with us to the police station, and report the incident, and we can get you some help too. You’ve clearly been through a lot, being attacked by an android is no small feat,” I sympathize with him, even as I get the sense he’s not giving me the full story.

Kevin looks me in the eye, hesitating for a moment, before nodding. We walk him to the car, Kevin gets in the back, and we drive off without any difficulty.


	2. Big Brother is Watching

Back at the police station, Reid and I escort Kevin in through the main entrance. Our first instinct is to have him check in with one of the android receptionists, but Reid glances over at me, shaking his head. So instead we take him to one of the self check-in kiosks off to the side.

“Hold still for a moment please,” the automated voice asks, as the near-invisible camera on at the top of the kiosk focuses on Kevin.

Kevin backs away from the camera, “No! Get that thing away from me!”

“Kevin, there’s no need to worry, we’re not going to take you anywhere near the android receptionists,” I assure him.

Nevertheless, Kevin points at the camera ingrained into the kiosk, his voice gaspy and desperate, “But the machines! They can see all of us! With a blink of an eye they can access everything about us!”

The camera must have already scanned his facial features, because right on cue, the kiosk loads up a profile for Kevin Newman, with his age, physical features, and criminal history, which include several unpaid tickets.

“You see?! It knows everything! Just by looking at my goddamn face!” he cries, backing farther away from the kiosk.

“Sir, all citizens are registered in the system, and most androids have no access to it-”

Reid is cut off by an increasingly frightened Kevin, “The one who attacked me had access to something! He said he _recognized_ me! He _knew_ my buddies and I go to that park after the bars close! He even said he’d _seen_ me before!”

Kevin’s voice reaches a shouted pitch, causing people in the lobby to stop and turn towards him. Reid and I exchange a look of understanding, before I take the first tentative step towards Kevin.

“Kevin, it’s gonna be alright. We understand your concern. None of the androids will have access to your records, we promise,” I tell him, keeping my breathing steady and my words clear, “we’re going to get you some therapy. We have counselors here onsite who can help you overcome your fear. What happened to you was a freak occurrence, that’s why you’re here, reporting it to the police.”

Kevin stumbles and catches himself on an empty lobby chair, crashing halfway down to the floor. Reid steps ahead of me, offering his hand, “We’re here to help Kevin. Do you need a hand?”

He starts to nod, muttering to himself as Reid helps him back onto his feet. Kevin begins to calm, his frantic eye movements slowing and the shaking in his hands lessens. Reid and I are about to breathe a sigh of relief when-

“Pardon me. I couldn’t help but overhear. This man has been involved with a deviant android?”

We all turn to see Connor, all the markings of its android being on full display, from the bright blue armband to the LED on its temple.

Reid and I turn to Kevin, whose breath is rapidly increasing once more, his movements becoming jittery while his shoulders stiffen.

Connor straightens its posture, looking Kevin right in the eye, “My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife. I, along with Lieutenant Anderson, am responsible for investigating all cases of deviancy among androids. I would like to bring you in for questioning.”

Kevin turns to the two of us, “You’re...you’re not going to leave me with that thing, are you?!”

Reid grits his teeth, “I mean, if what it says is true, we might have to turn you over to it, we don’t have higher jurisdiction over a detective-”

“‘Higher jurisdiction’?! It’s a fucking android!” Kevin gasps.

I turn to the android, “Connor, this man is in no condition to be questioned. He’s clearly under heavy duress, he needs help first-”

“My objective is to investigate any and all cases of android deviancy. Scanning this man’s vitals, it is clear that he is physically fit and of sound mind and will be questioned. Now if you will please escort this man to an interrogation room, officers,” Connor’s tone is insistent, and without empathy.

My frown deepens, as my eyes narrow. I cross my arms, approaching it as I lower my voice, “And what are you going to do to him? His testimony isn’t going to be of any use to you in this state. Plus, he’s already shown a clear bias against you, what makes you think he’ll turn around?”

Now it’s Connor’s turn to respond, and it doesn’t hesitate to get right in my face, imposing it’s taller stature upon me, “For your information, Officer McMaghnuis, I am specially programmed for interrogation purposes, and according to my calculations, I already have a sixty-eight percent rate of success. Now you will escort the man in for questioning, and I won’t have to have a word with your superiors about your insubordination.”

Oh, that’s how we’re going to play it? I scowl as I grit my teeth. And to think I thought this thing was attractive.

“Fine,” I spit, my eyes trained on his indifferent expression.

Reid turns to Kevin, “I’m sorry, man-”

Before any of us can act, Kevin makes a break for it, running through the lobby and tearing past the front doors. Connor immediately gives chase, “Come back here!”

“Oh Jesus,” I shake my head, before Reid and I follow.

We make it onto the street just as Kevin has crossed the road, making a beeline for a back alley down way. Connor runs out onto the road just as a large truck speeds towards it. Its horn blares, and Connor ducks and rolls out of the way just in time. It then vaults over a car, gaining on Kevin as he ducks into the alleyway. Reid and I wait until the road is clear before crossing.

By the time we’ve caught up to Kevin and Connor in the alleyway, Connor already has Kevin backed against a wall as it handcuffs him.

“Kevin Newman, you’re under arrest,” it declares, as it begins to read him his rights.

“Arresting him? What the hell are you arresting him for?!” Reid asks, gasping as he puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Connor’s LED blinks yellow for a moment, “According to the DPD criminal database, this man has several unpaid tickets and fines for traffic violations, public urination, and other disturbances of the peace, and has failed to appear in court to address them. I remotely submitted a warrant for his arrest under these grounds within the last two minutes, and the system has already approved it.”

Reid and I look at each other in disbelief, before turning back to Connor with the same expressions.

It tilts its head, and in a matter-of-fact tone, states, “This man is under arrest.”

“You can’t do this to me…” Kevin, now sobbing in defeat, cries out, “You can’t do this!”

Reid gets a certain expectant expression on his face. Connor, without a hint of humor, replies, “I’m afraid I already have.”

“Oh my god. It actually said it,” Reid raises an eyebrow, eyes wide with shock as Connor starts to haul Kevin back to the police station.

As soon as Connor’s out of earshot, Reid turns to me, “Okay, if that doesn’t confirm Connor’s an evil villian android, I don’t know what will.”

“No,” I sneer, crossing my arms, “it’s a detective alright, and it has what most detectives have: a stick up its ass.”

We follow Connor who drags a blubbering Kevin back into the station, and as we’re walking down the hallway to the interrogation room, a man in a brown leather jacket walks down the other way, and upon noticing Connor, he immediately decides to interject himself.

“Hey Plastic Detective, aren’t you supposed to be off helping your master?”

Connor stops in its tracks as the man slowly approaches it in an aggressive and confrontational manner.

“I’m bringing this man in for questioning. He recently had an encounter with a deviant android,” Connor explains, keeping its eyes locked on this man with a wary expression.

He scoffs, “So you just picked the first hobo off the street with a grudge for androids? Oh, I’m sure he’ll be _very_ helpful in your investigation, detective.”

Reid groans, “Knock it off, Reed, okay? We brought Mr. Newman in for some assistance counseling and-”

“Oh, so the Plastic Prick is teaming up with the Pussy Patrol now? Is that right?” Reed chuckles, although no one else is even close to smiling.

I roll my eyes, sighing as I slump my shoulders. At the same time, my fists tighten, as my eyebrows lower. Gritting my teeth, I contemplate every possible act of violence I could commit towards the slimy Detective Reed.

I step forward towards him, “Don’t you have anything better to do, detective?”

“I’m just pointing out the problems in the DPD, and I see two of them right here. That’s glorified social workers like you, and fucking androids like that thing,” Reed’s anger is petulant, almost childlike, and all I can do is raise an eyebrow, put my hands on my hips, and shake my head.

“If you really think those are such big problems, why don’t you take them up with your superiors? Instead of being a dick about it and making everyone else’s job harder?”

“Don’t push my buttons, you bitch-”

“I don’t give a shit. Everything pushes your buttons.”

With my response, Detective Reed becomes quiet, too quiet. But it’s only for a second, the next second he’s reaching for his gun.

“You’re gonna regret that-”

As he raises his gun to aim, Connor releases its grip on Kevin, pushing past Reid to get between me and the detective. Although its six foot frame towers over my five foot five, it still feels the need to outstretch its arms, covering all possible area the bullet might hit.

I flinch, waiting for the gunfire to sound, but none occurs. Then I hear something arguably worse, Detective Reed’s cold laughter.

“Awe, Plastic Man coming to save his girlfriend? Relax, I wasn’t going to shoot,” he chuckles, before putting his gun back into its holster.

Connor lowers its arms, and waits for Reed to have turned around to walk away, before it makes its way back towards Kevin. I follow the android who’d just put himself...I mean, itself, between me and a loaded gun. At the very least, I feel bad now for thinking it’s a complete dick. And, if I’m going to be honest with myself, I want to thank it, and give it a hug. Although, human or android, Connor doesn’t really seem like the hugging type. Or is it?

I glance up at Connor as we finally make it to the back of the station, where the interrogation rooms are located. I didn’t think it’d try and sacrifice itself for my sake, maybe’s there’s more to Connor than I thought.


	3. The Interrogation

Now in one of the closed interrogation rooms, Connor handcuffs Kevin to the table. The android then sits down on the opposite side, hands folded together, back unnaturally straight. The perfect image of roboticism.

“I understand that our first impression was...somewhat hostile. But I assure you, I was designed to assist humans in investigating cases of android deviancy. I am not the enemy here,” Connor insists, maintaining a quietness I’d never seen in it before.

Kevin, slumped over on the metal table, is unresponsive, staring at what must be a very interesting section of the wall.

From the other side of the room, Reid and I watch the questioning from a one-way pane of soundproof glass. In front of us is a large control panel that records everything happening in the interrogation room, while it projects holographic images detailing different information onto the sides of the glass.

Reid wipes his brow, “It’s not even our first break yet, but I need a beer.”

I’m sitting down in one of the plastic swivel chairs near the window, watching Connor’s interrogation, “We could grab a beer after work. Maybe we’ll even run into Hank while we’re there.”

Reid chuckles, while I keep my eyes on the interrogation. Kevin has sat up from his slumped position, swaying back and forth and grimacing at Connor.

“And why the fuck should I tell you anything? You arrest me on bullshit charges and expect me to cooperate? Pff...if you’re here to help humans, you’re doing a shitty job of it.”

Standing behind me, Reid watches on, “You know, as awkward as it might be around humans, you gotta admit, that thing can be a badass when it wants to. It ran right in the middle of oncoming traffic, then leaped over the hood of a car. That’s like, stuff you see in movies.”

I smile, “Yeah, and stepping between another person and a gun is something most humans wouldn’t even do, I’ll give it that.”

“But you know, you’ve gotta stop butting heads with Detective Reed, cause it really is going to get you shot one day. That man is psycho,” he insists, his voice pitching up with hushed concern.

“I’m not going to let some schoolyard bully push me around. If he’s spewing shit, I’m not going to lie down and take it.”

“Yeah, that’s great, but do you really think it’s really worth getting killed? Everyone on the force knows  Reed is unstable-”

“And who on the force has he not pulled his gun on at some point?” I counter, “He’s an asshole, but he’s not stupid. He knows they’ll put him away if he shoots a human. He’s just trying to overcompensate, that’s probably the whole reason he became a cop to begin with.”

I turn my attention back to the interrogation. Connor is getting nowhere with Kevin, as it turns to try a different approach.

“Look, if you don’t tell me what happened, I could have you arrested for a lot more than just unpaid parking tickets. I have access to archive footage from DPD security drones. And I have programmed in me every state, local, and federal law to have ever been signed, which I can access within seconds. I’m certain there’s enough there to put you away for a very long time.”

I groan, putting my head in my hands. I’m so tempted to go in there and do something, it’s going about this all wrong.

“Wilson! McMaghnuis! What the hell is going on here?” Reid and I turn around to find Lieutenant Hank Anderson, waltzing in with his scruffy, gray hair and a heavy brown jacket.

“Your new partner insisted on interrogating a man we were suppose to bring in for assistance counseling,” I explain.

Hank grimaces, “That thing is not my partner, I’m pulling the plug on this.”

He opens the door to the interrogation room, startling both Connor and Kevin.

“Alright you piece of plastic, that’s enough-”

“Please, Lieutenant, if you’d only just give me a minute-”

“You butted in on another officer’s duty! We’re supposed to be investigating the damn androids, not the poor suckers who run into them! Now leave the man alone! Let’s go!”

Hank grabs Connor by its crisp lapels and practically drags it out of the interrogation room.

“Sorry if it was any trouble...eh, let’s face it, the damn thing probably was,” Hank admits, both to us and to himself.

I chuckle a little bit, “Well, weren’t all of our first days on the force at least a little rough?”

Connor wrestles itself free from Hank’s iron grip, and starts marching to the exit, nearly slamming its hand onto the fingerprint scanner, its other hand clenched in a fist.

I tilt my body out a bit, to see it more clearly, “Oh, Connor?”

Connor stops in its tracks, its left hand slipping off of the scanner. With its back turned to the rest of us, it straightens its posture, even going so far as to adjust its tie, before turning around.

“I just wanted to say, thank you for earlier. When Reed tried to pull his gun on me, I mean, he probably wasn’t going to fire, but, that was still pretty brave of you.”

Hank looks at Connor, hands on his waist, “What the hell did you do? Don’t tell me you pissed off Gavin?”

“I pissed off Detective Reed,” I confess, “and Connor shielded me when he drew his gun and took aim.”

Hank’s bushy eyebrows raise, a hint of a smile creeping across his lips, “Well, what do you know?”

Connor glances at Hank with confusion, its shoulders arched back slightly. He just gives a low chuckle, before patting Connor on the back and walking out.

Connor takes one final look at Reid and I, its body unnaturally still, its eyes dark and unflinching. I can’t help but think this thing is looking at me, but the logical part of me knows it’s just doing one last automated, analytical scan of the room. Without saying a word, it leaves. 

As the door closes behind us, I jump up out of my seat and unlock the door to the interrogation room, “Kevin, I’m so sorry this had to happen to you-”

“You promised.”

I recoil slightly as I find Kevin glaring back at me, “That  _ thing _ knew everything about me! It had access to my records, surveillance footage, that thing would have done anything to put me away for good!”

I have to win him back, but he does have a point. I’m gonna need to outright lie this time.

“It was bluffing. Every detective has bluffed at least once in their life to get a confession. How could an android that only arrived at the police station earlier today possibly have clearance for all that? ”

His eyes widen, he’s genuinely surprised, “That android only just arrived today? Well, you’d better send it right damn back, something’s seriously wrong with its system.”

Kevin starts laughing and I force myself to laugh along, imitating his sudden burst of humor.

I reach for the handcuffs, “Do you want me to undo those?” I need an ingratiating gesture, plus I know Reid’s just outside, and Kevin’s shown to not have a tendency towards violence, he didn’t even try to attack Connor when it arrested him.

“Yeah, yeah, that’d be great,” he mumbles, as I release his wrists.

Kevin flexes his fingers, twisting his wrists back-and-forth, “You know, maybe I felt a little bad for doing what I did to that android, but now? Ha, they can burn for all I care.”

I glance up at the near-invisible camera in the corner of the room. Maybe there’s another way I could thank Connor.

“What exactly did you do to the android?” I asked.

Kevin’s tone relaxes, almost becoming conversational, “Oh, you know, initially we were going to just steal the shovel it was using, but the minute my buddy took it he just smacked it right in the head with it! It fell to the ground and wasn’t moving, so I thought it would be funny to try and scratch my initials into it.”

“And where’d you put your initials? On its body?”

“No,” he scoffs, “I tried with a switchblade to engrave it right on its face,” he gestures to his left cheek, “but the knife wasn’t making any marks, those androids are made of some sturdy plastic. So luckily another one of my friends had a lighter, so I tried burning it in. Didn’t do a good job though, the plastic melts everywhere except right where you want it.”

I suppress my reaction. Sure, it was just an android, but the thought of something that looks so human, literally having its face melted off. It doesn’t sit right in my stomach. I try not to think about it.

Kevin’s tone suddenly becomes more somber, more serious, “But see, the thing is, I couldn’t even finish the job. As I was burning off the plastic, the android, it started to scream. The loudest sound I’d ever heard come from an android. And that’s when it lunged and attacked us.”

Following him along, I ask, “He...I mean, it screamed? I thought androids didn’t feel pain?”

“Exactly my thought too! I thought it would be hilarious to burn my initials into its cheek, and then see it gardening the next day with that mark on its face, like nothing had happened!”

Kevin chuckles to himself, but at this point I’d stopped smiling. My hands are frozen on the table, and I stare back at him, eyes wides, lips partially opened.

“...what?” he asks.

I stand, “Thank you for that, Mr. Newman. Officer Wilson and I are going to get you help now,” I can’t help but have a shakiness in my voice, my eyes beginning to dart back-and-forth.

I make my way out of the room, trying to remain as calm as I can as Kevin follows me.

I turn to Reid, “Officer Wilson, would you bring Mr. Newman to assistance counseling, please?”

Reid immediately notices my sudden change of tone and replies with an understanding nod, “Got it.”

He leads Kevin out of the room, and I’m left on my own. I feel tears starting to brim on my lower lids, but I sniffle them back as I sit down at the recording console. I send the recording of the interrogation to the android listed as RK800, as well as Hank’s desk. After that, I slump down against the back of my chair, pursing my lip as I allow a single tear to fall down my cheek. At least I still have a cheek.

I nearly jump as Connor walks back in through the security door, “I was hoping you’d still be here, Officer McMaghnuis. I just did a full analysis of the footage you sent me.”

I rapidly wipe my tears away as I attempt to compose myself. Hopefully it doesn’t notice, or better yet, won’t care, “Oh, yeah, that’s great Connor-”

“Were you crying just now, officer?”

Oh great, so it did notice. Wonderful. Just terrific.

I turn to Connor, my eyes no doubt puffy, red, and utterly awful to look at, “Yes, I was crying, Connor. I mean, if you did an analysis of the footage...you know what that man did to that android?”

“I do, and you were right in your own analysis: androids don’t feel pain. But deviants do, and Kevin Newman’s description matches a missing WR600 model that went missing a couple of weeks ago,” Connor explains, missing the point entirely.

I shake my head, “It’s just, I mean, I know the android is the perp in this situation. It attacked a human, but...how could someone even think of something so horrible?”

“You’re confusing an android for a living being. That android is not alive, and the most Mr. Newman can be charged for is damage of city property, considering the android is property of the city of Detroit,” Connor’s tone is almost reassuring, but I don’t have the energy to pretend to feel reassured.

“He melted its face off!” I explode, leaping up from my seat, “Doesn’t that freak you out at least a little? What if that happened to you, Connor?”

Connor remains for the most part expressionless, but I sense a slight shift, eyebrows tilting upwards, its eyes widening ever so slightly.

“I am not a deviant, and therefore feel no pain. If the damage was irreversible I would most likely be deactivated and replaced by another RK800 model,” it explains, with a curt downward tilt of the head.

I cross my arms, “Fair enough. Hey, I mean, I appreciate your company and all, but where’s Hank? Shouldn’t you two be off solving deviant mysteries together?”

“We were about to head out to investigate a possible homicide by an android, when Lieutenant Anderson claimed he needed to ‘use the bathroom’. Little did he know, I spotted the flask tucked into his coat pocket,” Connor’s tone contains just a hint of pride, or is it snark?

“So…” it suddenly breaks its still posture, its clunky walk leading it to the other chair beside the console. It then proceeds to sit, a slow, calculated, and awkward bend of the knees followed by bent arms settling on the equally plastic arms of the chair, “...I’ve got time.”

I raise an eyebrow, and I can’t help but elicit a low chuckle. Most of the patrol androids we’ve had on the force are much more mechanical, almost never speaking unless they’re giving out tickets or stopping jaywalkers. When I see them in the station, it’s almost like watching ghosts, drifting back-and-forth on tasks unknown. Connor however, is much different. While its movements and speech are still far from perfect, it’s much more autonomous. I’ve never had an android sit down with me wanting to have a conversation before.

“I would like to thank you as well, Officer McMaghnuis,” Connor explains, “thanks to the footage you sent me of you interrogating Mr. Newman, I was able to incorporate your interrogation techniques into my own program, improving my software.”

It can do that? My heart sinks into my stomach as I sit back down. So this thing can copy my mannerisms, just by watching me? I’d grown up believing that one of the few jobs that would always be safe from androids were jobs that require human interaction, a “human touch” so to speak. But if androids like Connor can truly copy what I can do…

“Oh, really? And what did you learn?” I ask, my voice slow and tentative.

It leans forward, folding its hands together in its lap, “My calculations were correct that extracting information was possible under the witness’s current circumstances. However, the level of stress required to induce a confession was off by about twenty percent, and my overall predictive rate of success may have been affected.”

...what? Okay, so maybe my job is safe after all.

I start to shake my head, “That’s not how psychology works-”

“Yes, of course, Officer McMaghnuis. I understand you have a degree in psychology from Wayne State University,” I open my mouth but Connor continues before I have a chance to speak, “however, androids  comprehend the unpredictable nature of human beings through statistics, and evidence-based data in order to make predictions. In truth we can never fully predict what a human will do, we can only form statistical likelihoods.”

“How’d you know I went to Wayne State?” I finally get a word in edgewise, and Connor doesn’t seem to register the concern in my voice.

“It says so on your police profile. Also, on the Wayne State University website, your name is on the Dean’s Lists from 2028 through to 2032.”

My back presses up against my chair, “You read my profile? Why? I’m not part of an investigation of yours, am I, detective?”

Connor suddenly looks downward, straightening its back as it puts its hands back on each arm of the chair. Its eyes start darting back-and-forth, as if it’s realizing this for itself as well, “No, no, you’re not…”

Hank enters the room, a casual bounce in his step, his speech slurring just a bit, “Connor? What the hell are you doing here?”

Connor glances up, spotting Hank, “Coming, Lieutenant,” its tone is distant, distracted. It makes a slow ascent from its chair, keeping its eyes on me as it rises. Once it’s finally stood up though, its posture shifts forward, into a sort of neutral stance, before walking out the door.

Hank’s eyes follow Connor with a raised eyebrow, before looking back at me. To my surprise, he cracks a smile.

“Huh…” is all he says before giving me a short wave, and leaving the room.


	4. Stormy Night

The moment I arrive home I get the urge to just collapse right onto the floor in exhaustion. I throw off my soaked coat and shoes. It had started raining later in the night, which did not make my job any easier or pleasant. I shiver, walking over to the thermostat to turn up the heat. 

Next, I flick on the lights, revealing a neat, orderly living room. The room still smells of the new birch flooring I installed, and the wood still shines of its newness. The fluffy blue couches and chairs I found at a garage sale, and after fully washing, vacuuming, and disinfecting them, they look pretty presentable, despite being well-worn. All the other furniture in the room was also found in a similar fashion, thrift stores, Goodwill, anywhere you can get reliable items for cheap.

I grab a hard cider from the fridge, before getting out my tablet and leaping onto the couch. My head against a pillow, body slouched over the couch, tablet leaning against my legs.

“What is up you guys, my name is Mark Water and today we’re going to be continuing our playthrough of the video game tie-in  _ Target _ , in theatres now. Last time, we just discovered that our son was kidnapped by someone calling themselves the Origami Killer…”

I turn my brain off, watching the let’s play as I sip my cider. Other than the energized chatter of celebrity Let’s Player Mark Water, the house is quiet, almost empty. The rain outside a distant, otherworldly sound trying to get in.

The Let’s Play is paused by the ringing of a video chat request from my cousin. Sitting up straight, I put down my beverage before answering.

“Hey Em, did you just get home from work?” my older cousin Amelia’s face is too close to the camera as she adjusts herself, her nose and chin exaggerated by the angle.

“Yeah, yeah. My partner and I were planning on heading out for a drink after work, but then it started raining over here, and after a long day at work I think we both just wanted to go home.”

Amelia grins, “Honey, you should get out more though, meet somebody. Have you tried any dating apps? I mean, it’s not like there’s a rush, but you are turning the big 3-0 next year-”

“Amelia, if I didn’t know you any better, I would think you’re trying to marry me off. And what’s with me turning thirty have anything to do with it? Both of our parents didn’t get married till their mid-thirties, your dad was almost forty,” I counter, my arms crossed and a knowing smirk plastered across my face.

“True, true, I’m just saying. It would look good to your mom and dad, to settle down. ...have you tried calling them? At all?”

My smile fades, and I bite my lip, “No...no I haven’t.”

“You should try. I don’t get to talk to them all that often, but who knows, maybe it’ll help things?” Amelia senses my discomfort, and switches the topic, “And you should keep putting yourself out there. What about your partner? Reid, right? He’s into girls, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but we’re just friends,” I clarify.

“...is it because you’re not into black guys? I mean, I totally get it, I never thought I’d ever be attracted to Asian guys, so it shocked everyone when I married Jason-”

“Oh my god, Amelia, no! Race has absolutely nothing to do with it!” I bring Amelia’s train of thought to a screeching halt as fast as I can. I love my cousin Amelia, she helped babysit me a lot growing up, but she has a very...old-fashioned mindset.

“So is there anyone else then? C’mon, you work at a police station, there’s got to be at least one hot cop roaming around.”

Connor. Why’d I just think of Connor? It’s an android, not a real person. Even if, let’s say, I had a thing for it, an android could never reciprocate those feelings. It’s just not possible if it’s not in its programming, and romance is definitely not what Connor was programmed for.

“No, there really isn’t anyone,” am I lying? Even I’m not certain.

“Well, I’ve gotta go. Andy’s making us pesto fettuccine tonight,” she glances around the room before continuing, “Jason and I have been thinking about replacing it after what happened with that android back in August. The one who went rogue and held the family’s daughter hostage? Andy’s the same model, so better safe than sorry, you know? I mean, it’s never acted strange or anything, but it’s become outdated anyway, the newer models have so many more features-”

The sound of a door opening comes from my tablet speakers, as Amelia looks somewhere offscreen.

“Amelia, dinner is ready.”

She turns back around, “Alright. Talk to you soon, Em!”

I wave goodbye as the screen on Amelia’s side goes blank. What happened with that android back in August? Honestly there have been so many stories of androids going rogue lately, I forgot which one that was. With my tablet already in front of me, I do a quick internet search.

Images flash up of a blonde android seen from a bird’s eye view on the ledge of a penthouse patio, holding a gun to a young girl’s head. An officer is floating, dead in the pool, and another is bleeding off to the side, somewhat obscured by the overturned patio furniture.

“Jesus…” I can’t help but murmur aloud, as I click on the  _ Detroit Today _ article that corresponds with the image.

Amelia was right, the android that went on a rampage is the same model as Andy, a PL600, it even had the same physical appearance. It killed the father, and took the daughter hostage out on the rooftop. The father was the same age as Amelia, and the daughter was also named Emma, no wonder this has Amelia spooked. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten rid of Andy already. Maybe she’s afraid it’ll snap like this one did.

But then I notice another figure in one of the images of the article. There aren’t any pictures of the crime scene on the ground until long after the android had been shot, but in the aerial photos taken during the hostage negotiation, there’s clearly a man on the opposite side from the android. The images are blurry and taken from far away, and it doesn’t help that his gray suit and dark hair cause him to blend in with the patio. But there’s a spec on his arm, an unmistakable bright blue armband that’s clearly visible even from high up.

It can’t be…

I keyword search the article for “RK800”, and it takes me all the way down to nearly the very end. A very brief paragraph explains that the hostage situation was negotiated by a prototype developed by CyberLife, the company’s most advanced android to date.

It couldn’t have been Connor, could it? Even if it’s the same model, there could be hundreds, even thousands of RK800s operating out there. Who knows, I could have talked to two totally different “Connor” models at the police station today, and I wouldn’t have even noticed.

I remember something about Reid, or rather, about his brother, and, with perfect timing, my computer lights up with a video chat request from him.

“Hey Emma, I’m sorry we didn’t go out for drinks tonight. It was just a long day on the job, and especially after it started raining, I just really wanted to curl up in bed.”

And it’s clear that’s what Reid has done. In the background of the video, I can make out the baseboard of his bed, and the navy blue pillow he’s resting against. Reid himself is no longer in his police uniform and now sports a bright red t-shirt with a yellow star on the front.

“No worries, Reid. Hey, I know this is coming out of nowhere, but was the hostage situation your brother was injured in the one where the android went rogue and took a little girl hostage?”

He nods, “Yeah, Marvin got shot in the arm when he and another officer tried to engage the android. Lucky bastard made it out, but only because someone had applied a tourniquet on the scene. Much to his shock we later learned that someone was an android-”

“I think that android might have been Connor,” I interrupt him, unable to contain the excitement of my discovery.

Reid’s eyes widen, “No...way! What makes you think so?”

I send him the link to the  _ Detroit Today _ article, “Apparently the android handling the negotiation was an RK800, just like Connor. When does Marvin start work again? It’s gotta be soon, right?”

“Next Monday, actually. Although it’s not like we run into each other on the job all that often, maybe once he’s back he can verify if Connor’s the same android...man, that’d be cool. And it would totally justify your crush on Connor-”

“I do not have a crush on an android!” I react almost too quickly to Reid’s accusation, and he gives me a knowing smirk.

“Oh, c’mon, Connor’s your type. Slim build, dark-haired, kinda pasty, Connor fits the bill to the tee. Or at least, from what I know of your preferences. The only other person I’ve seen you date was that other guy...that ex of yours we ran into that one time-”

“Yeah, let’s not talk about him,” I dismiss right away, a distinctive snarl in my tone.

Reid nods, “Okay, okay, I understand you. But hey, I’m not judging you for having a bit of a crush on Connor,” my eyes widen as my frown intensifies, but Reid’s smile just grows as he continues, “I’ve gotta admit, I respect the guy.”

“Respect? I mean, sure, I guess you can respect an android. Ha, maybe you’re the one with a crush, Reid, you’re already obsessed with androids as it is,” now it’s my turn to laugh, but Reid just raises an eyebrow and twists his lip.

“My god woman, just admit you think he’s cute. Yes, I am an android enthusiast, but I’m saying I respect him because his hyper determined to accomplish his...I mean its mission in a way a human could never be. Plus, as you pointed out earlier today, it got all white knight when Detective Reed was being...well, Detective Reed. Just admit it, it’s okay to have a little thing for your savior.”

“Connor didn’t save me from anything other than a broken man’s ego,” I dismiss, before looking at the clock in the corner of my tablet screen, “hey, it’s getting kinda late, I should probably get some sleep. See you on the next shift.”

“Yep, see you then,” Reid waves, before the video chat screen goes blank.

I turn off my tablet, and set it on the coffee table next to me. I finish up my hard cider and then head to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. What Amelia said creeps back into my head. Maybe I should call Mom and Dad. When’s the last time I talked to them anyway? I keep telling myself I’m going to do it, tell them about my house, my job. They don’t even know I’m a police officer, and how long have I been on the force? Five, almost six years now?

As I slump my way out of the bathroom, and into the small kitchen that separates the bedroom hallway from the main bathroom, I spot the basement door, slightly ajar, nestled into the corner of the kitchen. Out of all the places in the house, the basement needs the most work. I’ve done a pretty good job renovating most other parts of the house, but the basement is its own daunting challenge.

I close the door, both the lock and hinges are ancient, so the door keeps opening on its own. And the last thing I need is rats or whatever else lives down there to come up into the kitchen.

With a sigh I change into sweats and a tank top, removing my bra and throwing it onto a nearby chair before collapsing into bed. From my bedroom, I can hear the damn basement door creaking open on its own again. I groan, and too tired to deal with it at this hour, I reach my foot over from my bed and slam the bedroom door shut.


	5. Scan and Analyze

I’m jolted out of sleep by a rattling sound coming from the kitchen. Too loud to have been the wind or the rain. Maybe a small animal got in?

As I press my ear against the door, the sound of footsteps heavy from rainwater squeak against the kitchen tile. Not an animal either…

Leaping out of bed, I keep my movements light as to not make any noise. Making my way over to my dresser, I open the bottom drawer, filled with summer t-shirts and other miscellaneous items. Making sure not to press down too hard on anything, in total darkness I feel around towards the back, before finding what I’m looking for.

I pull out my Glock handgun, and as I stand, I load it. I have never pulled my gun on anyone during my time on the force, but that doesn’t mean I’m not trained to use one.

I press my ear against the door one more time, weapon at the ready. The footsteps have gone quiet, but now there’s rattling coming from what sounds like the fridge, from the clinking of the bottles. Maybe a burglar? Or some homeless person who happened to stumble in here?

The lights in the hallway are flicked on, now there’s no doubt it’s a person. My gun still close to me, I reach for my phone and call 911.

“911, what’s your emergency-”

“I’m an off-duty officer calling from 76 Michigan Drive, I have a possible home invasion-”

The footsteps start up again, as a shadow emerges against the hallway light from the crack in my bedroom door.

“Em? Is that you?”

Oh my god, it can’t be…

“C’mon Em, don’t call the cops,” the male voice is slow and laborious, as the doorknob starts to rattle.

“Miss, is everything alright-”

I set the phone down, before opening the door with one hand, the other aiming with my gun.

“I’ve already called the police. You have about five minutes to get out,” I raise my gun at him, my voice harsh and direct.

Dressed in a black down jacket over a blue t-shirt, Leo Manfred lumbers into my bedroom, his eyes tired and red.

“Not a step closer!” I command, inching towards him, re-emphasizing my weapon.

Unfazed by the fact that I have a gun pointed at his head, he casually backs up, “Relax, I just wanna sit down.”

Leo leans against the door frame, his eyes bloodshot and tired, “So, why’d you never tell me about this place?”

“How the hell did you even find my house to begin with?” I ask, my tone softening, more curious than anything.

“Our old buddy Sean let it slip while we were at the hospital that you’d gotten your own place after your ‘rents kicked you out. Huh, funny you told him but not me…”

Oh gee, I wonder why? I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Then I realize something.

“Wha...the hospital? Leo, what were you doing in the hospital? Don’t tell me you OD’d again-”

“My dad died,” Leo blurts out.

I lower my gun, “What? He’s dead? Leo, when did this happen-”

“Last night, I just got back from the hospital. It...it was a heart attack, look, it’s a long story and I don’t want to talk about it, okay?!”

Leo takes off his down jacket, soaked from the rain, and throws it over onto my dresser in frustration. Keeping both hands on my weapon, I take a step closer towards him.

“Leo, I am so sorry. But I’ve gotta ask...what the hell are you doing here? How’d you get my address-”

“I told you! Sean! His family lives next door to Dad, and they came over when they heard the gunshot-”

“‘Gunshot’?! You said he died of a heart attack-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Leo lashes out, but I raise my gun with a force equalling his ferocity. He settles down, slouching against the door frame, staring off into the distance, “Sean drove with me to the hospital, along with the ambulance. And you know, since it’d been so long since we’d actually talked, we were kinda catching up along the way. Ha...I guess he felt bad for me? So he told me where you were staying.”

“Well, Leo, I’m sorry about what happened, but you can’t stay here. I told you, I already called the cops-”

“I just don’t wanna go home, okay?” Leo looks me dead in the eyes, “You know I can’t go home. Mom has to know at this point, that bitch is probably having a goddamn meltdown right now-”

Leo is interrupted by the sound of sirens approaching the house. I give him an expectant glance. He groans.

“Fine. But I’ll be back, okay? You and I have a lot of catching up to do,” he promises, before darting down the hallway, back into the kitchen, and out the basement door.

With a sigh of relief, I put down the gun on my nightstand as there’s several harsh knocks on my front door. Reluctantly, I get up to answer, but I’m stopped right in my tracks as I cross to the living room. Through the window that overlooks the porch, I can see that not only is a DPD car parked in front of my house, but that the person knocking on my door has a distinctive combination of dark hair, and a gray semiformal jacket with bright blue accoutrements.

“Open up! Detroit Police!” Connor shouts from outside.

 

// INITIALIZING_SYSTEMS

// RECOGNIZED_RK800#313248317-51

< “Connor” model >

//CURRENT_TIME

< November 6, 2038 >

< 5:32 AM >

//CURRENT_LOCATION

< 76 Michigan Drive >

//OBJECTIVE

< **INVESTIGATE** EMMA’S DISTRESS CALL  >

input_KNOCK

recieve_response

< no response >

input_DETERMINED

“Open up! Detroit Police!”

recieve_response

< EMMA opens door >

“Connor, what are you doing here?”

input_EXPLAIN

“I responded to your 911 call, Officer McMaghnius. I have access to all incoming 911 reports. Voice recognition confirmed your identity, and the GPS signalling on your cell phone allowed me to track your location-”

input_interrupted_recieving_response.

“No...why, why did you, of all people, come over to my house?”

//CHOOSE_APPROACH

< LIE >

< TRUTH >

//APPROACH_SELECTED “LIE”

input_LIE

“There aren’t many officers available at this hour. And since Lieutenant Anderson is off-duty till later this morning, I figured I’d volunteer to help with the force.”

Software instability falling...

recieve_response

< EMMA looks HESITANT >

“Uhm...well, okay. It was just, I thought I heard someone breaking in through the back door, so I freaked out and called the police. It didn’t turn out to be anyone though. So, you can go. I’m sorry for wasting your time, Connor.”

observation_SUSPICIOUS_BEHAVIOR

//CHOOSE_APPROACH

< SEARCH >

< LEAVE >

//APPROACH_SELECTED “SEARCH”

input_SEARCH

“Well, do you mind if I take a look around the house, just in case?”

recieve_response

“Sure, I guess. Come on in.”

input_WALK

//NEW_OBJECTIVE

< **SEARCH** EMMA’S HOUSE >

< **LEARN** ABOUT EMMA >

input_ANALYZE_ENVIRONMENT

Collecting data…

Sync in progress...

Sync done…

Processing data...

object{family_picture}

MCMAGHNUIS, COOPER

Born: 5/23/1972 // Executive Chairman of Digital Harmony

MCMAGHNUIS, VIOLET

Born: 10/1/1978 // Former Singer

MCMAGHNUIS, EMMA

Born: 12/23/2009 // Police Officer

object{basement_door}

< heavily damaged, signs of a break-in >

< traces of asbestos >

“This door was forced open from the outside. Someone did break in.”

recieve_response

“Oh...no kidding.”

input_SERIOUS

“No, I’m not.”

recieve_response

< EMMA is CONFUSED >

input_CONTINUE

“Also, there are signs that you may have exposed asbestos in the basement. Breathing in asbestos particles is very dangerous for humans.”

recieve_response

“Ah shit, really? I had a feeling there was something wrong with the basement. There was no way I could get this place so cheap without some kind of catch. God, hopefully that was only recent...”

continue_ANALYZE_ENVIRONMENT

object{footprints}

< Model 519723 0G270 1079 “Smith & White Falacer Sneaker” - 8’ >

< less than ten minutes ago >

object{jacket}

< size: medium // fit: male >

< soaked from the rain, hasn’t been here long >

object{brassiere undergarment}

< size: 34B // color: red >

< preference noted >

Software instability rising...

recieve_response

“Uhm, do you really need to be looking at that?”

input_EXPLAIN

“I am simply analyzing all aspects of the area.”

recieve_response

“Uhuh, yeah right, pervert. Here, I’ll put that away, trust me, it’s not part of your crime scene.”

Relationship with EMMA falling...

continue_ANALYZE_ENVIRONMENT

object{gun}

< Glock 19 // loaded >

< serial number: 020004736 // registered to: EMMA MCMAGHNIUS

observation_EMMA_HAD_A_WEAPON

object{cell phone}

< has been recording this last ten minutes >

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS

input_DOWNLOAD_RECORDING

“911, what’s your emergency-”

observation_DISPATCHER’S_VOICE

“I’m an off-duty officer calling from 76 Michigan Drive, I have a possible home invasion-”

observation_EMMA’S_VOICE

“Em, is that you?”

observation_UNKNOWN_VOICE

Skipping ahead…

“Our old buddy Sean let it slip while we were at the hospital that you’d gotten your own place after your ‘rents kicked you out. Huh, funny you told him but not me…”

observation_EMMA_ESTRANGED_FROM_FAMILY

“Wha...the hospital? Leo, what were you doing in the hospital? Don’t tell me you OD’d again-”

observation_VOICE_CONFIRMED “LEO”

observation_LEO_USES_DRUGS

observation_EMMA_KNEW_INTRUDER

hypothesis_LEO_EMMA’S_BOYFRIEND?

Software instability rising...

//LOCALLY_REACTIVATING_SKIN

//NEW_OBJECTIVE

< **QUESTION** EMMA >


	6. Sympathize and Empathize

Connor is in my house, looking through all my stuff.

I watch the android walk around, making frequent sudden stops, making jilted, isolated turns of its head, before starting up again, sometimes turning around and walking in a completely different direction.

When I told it I’d called 911 but then realized nothing was there, most officers would have been relieved, and would have left straight away. But not Connor. Of course I had to get the android.

I notice it’s staring at an old family picture I have framed up on the wall in the living room. It’s still, its stance inhumanly neutral, except for the slightest tilt of the head that indicates it’s looking at the picture. Weird.

Turning away, next it moves on to the kitchen, and it makes an instant beeline for the basement door.

“This door was forced open from the outside. Someone did break in,” Connor reports, gesturing to the chipped away bits of wood near the door’s lock.

Holy shit, how did it know that? With that door being as rundown and aged as it is, no human police officer would have been able to tell the difference between signs of a break-in and the massive wear-and-tear that thing has gone through.

“Oh...no kidding,” is it going to realize Leo broke in? How much is it seeing that I’m not?

Connor turns to me, its tone very matter-of-fact, “No, I’m not.”

Uhm...okay?

As if that was a completely normal exchange, Connor continues to talk as it scans the rest of the kitchen.

“Also, there are signs that you may have exposed asbestos in the basement. Breathing in asbestos particles is very dangerous for humans.”

“Ah shit, really?” there was no way I would have known that on my own. At least something sorta good came of this android inspection, “I had a feeling there was something wrong with the basement. There was no way I could get this place so cheap without some kind of catch. God, hopefully that was only recent...”

My eyes widen as both Connor and I spot the wet, muddy footprints left on the kitchen tile. Shit, shit, shit...Leo’s dumb designer shoes leave a very distinct footprint on the ground. Although, his feet are on the smaller side, maybe I could claim those footprints are mine?

While I’ve been looking down at the footprints, Connor has continued on into my bedroom. I follow it, turning on the light for it, although it’s been walking around in the dark just fine. The lights flicker on, and I catch Connor examining the bra I’d thrown onto a chair before going to bed.

“Uhm, do you really need to be looking at that?” I question, crossing my arms.

Can you report an android to HR? Not that they’d do anything, but I’m genuinely curious.

Connor turns around, its mouth slightly pursed open, gritting its teeth, shoulders tense, like it knows it’s done something wrong. But its words say otherwise.

“I am simply analyzing all aspects of the area.”

I march over, lifting the bra off of the chair. I should have probably put that away when it rang the doorbell, but I didn’t think it’d come in, “Uhuh, yeah right, pervert. Here, I’ll put that away, trust me, it’s not part of your crime scene.”

I walk out of the bedroom and stash the bra in a little hamper I have in the small laundry room off in a corner of the hallway. I return down the hallway and round the corner back to my bedroom, but Connor steps through the door frame at nearly the same time, and we almost bump right into each other.

“Officer McMaghnuis, I have some questions for you,” it states, its tone direct and harsh.

I raise an eyebrow, “...okay? Wanna sit down somewhere? The living room, maybe?”

“Yes, I would,” it agrees, as it turns and begins its robotic strut down the hallway, eyes staring straight ahead, unmoving and unflinching.

I follow it, my steps having a little more hesitation, as it quickly seats itself in the middle of the blue couch. A little off-put by its brisk, assured movements, I sit down in one of the armchairs across from the couch. Hands on its knees, Connor’s body posture is slightly shifted towards me, its dark, glassy eyes staring into my soul.

“Officer McMaghnuis, did you know the man who broke into your house?” his tone is coarse, almost accusatory, and my hairs stand on end.

Keeping my cool, I shake my head and shrug, “That’s assuming someone broke in, in the first place. Like I told you, when I went to look, there wasn’t anyone there-”

“Don’t play dumb,” Connor interrupts, “there are multiple pieces of evidence in your house that point to a break-in, and I have recorded proof that you spoke with the intruder.”

Shit, my cell phone. Androids can interface with pretty much any technology, and I never fully hung up on the 911 operator. The call must have caught what Leo and I were saying.

“Okay, fine, so someone did break-in. Doesn’t matter anyway, because I don’t wanna press charges. You’re wasting your time, Connor-”

Connor stands, its fists clenched, “Regardless of whether or not you want to press charges, breaking-and-entering is still against the law and the incident needs to be recorded. Now you will give me the truth or I will have to arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

Jesus. I know this thing is just trying to do its job, but this is extreme. My back is arched into the chair, my hands spread out on either side. If I thought I could handle Connor in a fight, I might have considered trying to make a run for it.

Connor’s expression completely flips, what was once a scowl now shortens and straightens, its eyes softening as its eyebrows go from hard downward arches to upturning significantly, to the point where the little wrinkles on its forehead become emphasized. It backs up, and I can hear a soft thump as the back of its leg hits the couch.

“Look, I understand you know the intruder personally, Leo, right? You want to protect him.”

Connor sits back down, but this time it takes a totally different sitting position. It folds its hands together, elbows resting on it knees, leaning forward at the hips, legs spread apart slightly. I’m stunned, this is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Connor.

“But I’m sure you know, Leo isn’t a good person. He broke into your house, and you know he uses drugs. He could have hurt you.”

Huh, so it’s changed its approach? I guess it realized being an insistent asshole doesn’t really get you all that far. And it’s not like I can argue with Connor on that, if Leo is still the person I dated in college, it’s safer to assume he’s on something rather than not.

“Leo’s kind of a messed up kid. He’s got a lot going on,” I explain, “we met in high school, and ended up going to the same college-”

“Can I ask you a personal question, Emma?” Connor interrupts, its tone soft, almost hesitant.

Raising an eyebrow, I shrug, “Go ahead.”

“Are you and Leo...involved?”

I honestly don’t know what would make Connor think that, even if it did listen in on our conversation, “Uhm...no. At least, not anymore. Not for a long time.”

“But you use to?”

My eyes wander away from Connor’s persistent, almost unnerving stare. During this whole conversation, it’s tone has had a strange undercurrent of...something. Curiosity? Concern? Jealousy, even? Something urgent and burning, I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it’s all in my head, after all, a normal android doesn’t feel any of these things. Am I projecting emotion where none exists?

“Yeah, in college. But we haven’t spoken to each other since we broke up, him showing up at my house came out of nowhere. Probably because he has nowhere else to go, now that Carl’s gone.”

Connor nods, “I see. And could you possibly give me any idea of where the police might locate him?”

Now this is where I didn’t want to give things away. If Leo’s not at his mom’s place, he’s probably couch-surfing with anyone willing to tolerate him and his expensive habits. If they’re already dealing with Leo, the last thing I want to do is hoist the police on top of them too.

“No. He said he didn’t want to go home, so he’s probably not with his mom. But as to where he is, I have no idea. Most of our mutual friends only liked Leo for his money and reputation, I can’t see any of them actually helping him out.”

It’s not like I’m completely lying. Leo has an abrasive personality that caused him to burn a lot of bridges back in the day, and I doubt that’s changed.

Connor’s expression shifts more serious, “And what kind of...‘reputation’ did Leo have?”

“He’s the son of famous painter Carl Manfred. Although Leo didn’t meet Carl until high school, when Carl suddenly showed up in his life and had Leo transfer to University Liggett School. That’s where we met.”

The LED on Connor’s right temple turns yellow, blinking rapidly for a few seconds before returning to its standard blue, “Carl Manfred was declared dead last night of a heart attack, after his android became belligerent and attacked him.”

My eyes widen, “Wha…”

“When police arrived, Leo identified the android, and it was promptly destroyed with a bullet to the head,” Connor finishes explaining, its tone informative and matter-of-fact.

So that’s the full story, that explains a lot. Leo’s stupid, but he’s not stupid enough to kill his own father. As for Carl’s android, that thing has pretty much followed Carl around since he lost the use of his legs. Carl was really fond of that android...what would have led an android to killing someone like him?

And here I am, alone in my house with an android. Would Connor ever get the urge to become deviant and kill people? It doesn’t seem likely, Connor is about as robotic as they come, but then again, I’ll bet Carl didn’t see it coming either.

Connor stands, “I think that’s all I need. Thank you, Officer McMaghnuis. I should probably let you get some rest. After all, your next shift is in exactly five hours and forty six minutes.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” my eyes squint, as it starts to hit me how tired I am, I’d only been asleep a couple of hours before Leo broke in. I look out the window as the sun peeks out over the house across the street. Crap, it’s already dawn.

As Connor finishes its statement, its eyes widen, as if it’s surprised by what it just said, “Wait a minute, your last shift ended at 1:30AM this morning, and you’re scheduled to work again from 10:00AM to 6PM. That’s over eight hours of work within a twenty-four hour period, shouldn’t you be receiving overtime for that?”

I laugh, a dry, cackling laugh, “Oh, I wish I got overtime. No, it’s just we’re understaffed, especially after all this deviant crap started. Especially in my department, we’ve got a lot of people showing increased signs of paranoia over androids, and I don’t know, maybe some of it’s justified.”

“Deviant androids are a threat to society, but CyberLife is working with authorities to ensure that all deviant androids are found and neutralized. That’s why they sent me,” Connor puffs out its chest a little, tilting its head upwards. 

I can’t help but smile at that. Yes, Connor can be abrasive, invasive, and somewhat clueless, but it’s those little gestures, the little hints of personality underneath the robotic exterior, that I gotta say make Connor kinda charming.

Connor looks down at me, catching me smiling at it. It’s reaction is...confusing. It seems to cycle through several emotions, first a frightened grimace, then a curious stare, then nervous glancing.

“I should go now. Good day,” it says, its tone clipped and abrupt.

It barrels its way to the door, bumping its legs against the couch cushions and nearly running into a small end table on its way out, only to veer out of the way just in time with a strange, sudden shift of the legs. I chuckle to myself, who knew a calculated android could be clumsy?

I get up, stretching out my muscles. Hopefully I can get a few more hours of sleep before my next shift. I’m about to start walking back to my bedroom when its voice calls out.

“Oh, and Emma?” it’s stopped itself at the door, turning its head to look back at me.

As sunlight pours into the living room, I realize that Connor’s hair, which had looked pitch black under the police station’s harsh fluorescents, is actually a soft dark brown, the open windows and incoming dawn creating a halo of light that surrounds him.

“Please be careful, and call the police if you suspect that anything, anything at all is wrong.”

Huh, of all things, I did not expect an android to say something like that. Crossing my arms, I’m unsure of how to respond.

“Uhm...sure. I will, Connor.”

The left corner of his lip creases into a smile, and for a split second, we not quite in harmony, but there’s a mutual understanding between us. Something unexplainable, within just a moment of smiling at each other.

Connor quickly snaps out of it, recomposing itself, straightening its back and shoulders, “Good day, officer.”

It tilts its head down, before exiting out the door in a hurry. Sheesh, I guess even an android’s got places to be. I let out a deep, loud yawn as clouds begin to cover the morning sky. Oh good, hopefully with less light coming into the house I’ll have an easier time falling back asleep.

Throwing myself back into bed as fast as I can, I groan and wonder if it’s even worth it trying to fit in a small cat nap before work. I glance up from my bed, and realize that Leo’s jacket is still up on my dresser. Shit, that’s probably why it thought Leo and I were dating. A man’s coat in the bedroom and my bra hanging out, I guess I could see why Connor leapt to that conclusion. But still, of all the questions to ask, that one sticks out to me the most. Not just that it asked, but also how it asked the question. It seemed insistent on knowing, and I guess it would reframe the situation if Leo’s break-in was a domestic dispute, but still, an android wouldn’t be interested in the emotions behind a case, only the cold hard facts.

Getting annoyed that Leo’s jacket is right in my field of vision, I turn over onto my side. Maybe I should just toss it out, or better yet, burn the jacket out in the backyard. But then I remember the asbestos Connor found in the basement, and the fact that I still haven’t called my parents. Now that I know Carl’s passed, I really should, I don’t want to miss his funeral. Maybe I shouldn’t set the damn thing on fire. Maybe I should focus more on fixing my present, rather than burning my past.


	7. An Android's Job

“So, it showed up, at your house,  _ in a police car _ , then after you told it nothing was up, it still insisted on doing a full search of the house? Ha, only police officers in the movies do that kind of thing,” Reid exclaims, as we cruise around in our patrol vehicle.

In the passenger’s seat, I scarf down the takeout order of falafel Reid had discreetly picked up for me during his break. I’d accidentally slept in after everything that’d happened last night, so there wasn’t any time for breakfast when I woke up. Luckily, Reid had secured me this very filling early lunch.

“Well, with everything going on, the fact that Connor showed up in a bona fide police cruiser and not by public transit was not the first thing on my mind. But yeah, I have noticed that androids almost always use either the bus system, or taxis-”

“CyberLife has sponsorship deals with both Detroit Taxi, and the Automatic Bus Company of Detroit. That’s why all the androids are automatically set to use them unless otherwise ordered,” Reid explains, “I’m just curious as to how it got ahold of a police car. I don’t think our androids have access to the cruisers-”

“Calling all units, we have multiple deviant androids sighting in Camden, androids are potentially armed and dangerous. Calling all units-”

As the voice on the radio repeats itself, I turn to Reid, “We’re close to Camden, wanna chip in?”

Reid rolls his eyes, “We’re also Mental Health Crisis Intervention. You know the other cops don’t like it when we try and jump in on ‘real’ police work.”

“What we do is real police work, we are real police officers. No matter what those dipshits say, we went through the academy like everyone else, and we’re just as important to the force as they are,” I rebut, throwing down my fork and crossing my arms.

Reid glances over at me and my stubborn expression, before pouting in defeat, “You’re gonna get us killed one day, I swear.”

“Hey, if I wasn’t at least a little bit of a bitch, I wouldn’t be a ‘real’ police officer, now would I?” I retort, my tongue dry and stinging with sarcasm.

We both chuckle, as Reid turns on the sirens, making a sharp left towards the crime scene.

 

By the time we get there, police cruisers have lined the streets, officers walking up and down the block. The rain from yesterday afternoon has started up again, stronger this time, with streams of water pouring from shop awnings. An abandoned house, enclosed in a deteriorating chain link fence, is surrounded by police. Reid and I are barely out of the car when we two figures burst out of the house, a woman in a heavy gray down coat, and a small girl in a purple jacket, her hair in a ponytail. Are those really our “armed and dangerous” deviant androids?

Not far behind them, Connor comes running out, chasing after the androids, following them into an alley and out of our view.

“Holy shit, guess we got here just in time,” Reid remarks, as we hurry over towards the house.

The first police personnel who notices us is Detective Collins, a pudgy man in his late forties with a slight scratch in his voice.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Detective Collins asks, as he looks up from the clipboard in his hand.

“The radio said ‘calling  _ all _ units’,” I inform him.

Collins rolls his eyes, “Well, there isn’t anything you can really do here. Hank’s android’s chasing the two deviants, and we’ve got one more inside armed with a kitchen knife. We’re just waiting for the android personnel to arrive to deactivate it.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You’re waiting for the android cops? Why not send in someone now, there’s at least ten of us already on the scene-”

“That thing in there is dangerous. You wanna risk a human life just to get rid of some android? Just sit down, and wait for the androids to take care of the androids. Ha, better one of them than one of us, right?”

I shake my head, “I don’t care if the androids are more disposable than us, I’m not waiting around for them to do our job for us. I’m going in.”

I duck under Detective Collins’ shoulder, also dodging Reid’s hand as I get down to go under the hole in the fence to the house. Collins looks over at Reid, who doesn’t give him anything more than a defeated shrug.

Checking to make sure my gun is loaded, I keep it in my holster as I approach the abandoned house. Steering clear of any windows, keeping my back against the wall, I knock several times on the door.

“Open up! Detroit police!” I call out.

No response. I take out my gun, giving myself a moment to breathe, before kicking the door in. I scan the area. It’s a disheveled living room, possibly once a bed and breakfast, from the lobby desk that’s been pushed off to the side, and the decaying arcade machine sitting in the corner. A small dining table sits by the fireplace, with the table set, and the fireplace running. Did the androids do this? But they don’t need heat, nor do they need to eat.

I nearly flinch when the android darts out from the kitchen, charging right for me with a knife.

“Freeze!” I command, gun trained on it.

To my surprise, the android stops in its tracks, perhaps it recognizes that my gun could kill it long before its knife would get anywhere close to me. It’s cloaked in some kind of sheet, masking the city worker android uniform underneath. But its most prominent feature is the unmistakable scar on the left side of its face, several deep gashes that trail up from its lip all the way to the upper forehead, exposing the blue blood and circuitry underneath.

It’s movements are frantic and jittery, with sudden fidgeting of the arms and twitches in the head.

I keep my voice slow and calm, “I just want to talk.”

“You’re a human...humans are bad...they want to hurt Ralph…” its speech comes out in short bursts, almost to the rhythm of its blinking red LED.

How do I approach this? After all, I’m trained to work with people, not androids. And Ralph has a clear bias against humans, so that’s already working against me. But I look at its scar again, Connor mentioned that while normal androids don’t feel pain, deviants do, and this android is clearly deviant. Maybe deviant androids feel more than just pain? Huh, the scar though, something about it is familiar.

“Yes, I am a human. But I’m not going to hurt you,” I slowly lower my gun, taking a step backwards before placing it on the floor. Keeping my hands in the air, I back away from the gun, “see?”

To most other officers, this is a ballsy move to say the least, if not a death sentence. But in my experience, this has been an almost surefire method of establishing trust, with other humans, at least. It diffuses a lot of the tension, taking weapons out of the picture.

Ralph seems stunned at this gesture, looking down at my weapon on the floor.

“Now, can you do that too? Please?” I plead.

After only a few seconds, Ralph puts down the knife, and kicks it into a corner. My heart nearly collapses in relief, although I do my best not to outwardly show it.

“How did you end up here, Ralph?”

“Ralph ran away...he was attacked one day...by humans like you. How does Ralph know you’re not going to hurt him like the others?” Ralph’s tone is accusatory, its anger giving its speech a defined clarity.

Strange, androids like Connor were built to think logically, or at least rationally. Without my gun, Ralph is much bigger and taller than I am, and if it tried to rush me, I would only have a very slim time frame to go for the weapon. An android thinking with logic would be able to recognize this almost immediately, but Ralph isn’t thinking logically, it’s thinking emotionally.

I slowly shake my head, “Ralph, I just want to know what happened here. You said you were hurt by humans? What happened?”

The twitching in Ralph’s head becomes more apparent, as it grits its teeth, “It...it was all a blur...Ralph was doing nightly maintenance work, when...the men in the park...they...they…”

Ralph clutches his head, as if in pain, and he raises his voice, “Ralph hates them all!”

I keep a headstrong stance, “Ralph, you don’t have to tell me anymore if it’s too painful for you. Why don’t you stop, and take a breath?”

Ralph comes to a relative stillness, as it looks more in my direction, “Take a...take a breath?”

“Yes, it might sound a little ridiculous, but just follow along. We can do it together, okay?”

Standing up straight, feet together, I raise my arms at a slow and steady pace to direct Ralph, “Deep breath in…”

There’s a split second of hesitation, but Ralph follows along, sucking in air from its mouth, even following the hand gestures to an extent. I do have to wonder how effective deep breathing is for androids, after all they don’t need to breathe the way humans do.

“And deep breath out.”

We both exhale in unison, the air leaving my lungs at the same time it leaves Ralph’s...I’m not sure. Circuitry?

“How do you feel now, Ralph?”

Ralph still fidgets with its hands, but other than that it’s become much more calm, “So many humans still outside...it scares Ralph...but Ralph is feeling better...he is...surprisingly soothed by the exercise.”

Several cops burst in, along with Connor and Hank. Before Ralph can react three cops have tackled it to the ground, restraining and handcuffing it. Connor is the first to confront me.

“Officer McMaghnuis, what the hell were you thinking?!” while it still has that robotic, authoritative tone, its speech is a lot less controlled, “Disobeying orders, engaging an armed deviant  _ alone _ , and then surrendering your weapon to it?!”

“I had the situation under control, I was able to get the android to disarm itself, and I was trying to get it into a more calm mental state-”

“Your methods are sloppy and reckless, and I question how someone so disregardful of police protocol is still a police officer-”

“Woah, woah! Now from my account, I think she did a good job.”

The two of us turn to find Hank interjecting, arms crossed as he watches us from a short distance. As Ralph is carted out by the officers, Hank walks over to the knife that’d been shoved into the corner.

“She got the android to give up its weapon, using her own gun as leverage, then tried talking it down. I’ll bet, if we’d given her more time, she would have convinced the android to come out peacefully. That was the end goal, wasn’t it, Emma?”

A bit surprised, I nod, “Yes, yeah, that was the goal.”

Hank then turns to Connor, “And what kind of hypocrite are you, coming down on her for disobeying orders? Hell, just now you disobeyed my orders to chase those two androids along the highway, you’ve disobeyed my orders more times than I can count.”

“She was needlessly putting her life at risk, Lieutenant, she could have been killed-”

Hank smirks, “And that’s what this is really about, isn’t it, Connor?”

Connor is caught off-guard by this, its eyes widening, and its posture shifts backwards, like someone gave it a light push. But it snaps out of it within seconds, clenching its fists and hardening its stance.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Lieutenant.”

Hank’s little smirk morphs into a full-toothed grin, “You’re a lying piece of shit, you know that Connor?”

This angers Connor, but even as its eyebrows lower in a hard arch, and its eyes narrow into little slits, it still maintains some of its cool, “Lieutenant Anderson, if you’re insinuating that I feel human emotion, of any sort, you are sorely mistaken.”

And with that, Connor storms out of the abandoned house, leaving Hank and I to ourselves.

I turn to Hank, “You don’t really believe Connor did all that because-”

“I’m not sure what to believe. You think I know the first thing about androids?” Hank retorts, but then he pauses for a moment, and his expression lifts, “But...if Connor were a flesh and blood human, I wouldn’t have a doubt in my mind.”

Raising an eyebrow, I put my hands on my hips, “And what would you think, if Connor were human?”

“Oh, that he has a crush on you. Plain as day,” Hank chuckles, but the smile quickly fades away, “but...as that prick has pointed out many times, androids don’t feel jack shit. So why it’s acting like that...well, your guess is as good as mine.”

“Hey, I’m no android expert either, that’s more Reid’s thing. He’d know way more about this than me, he’d probably be able to name the exact software malfunction and everything.”

Hank gives a skeptical shrug, “Eh...maybe we’re thinking too deep into it. Maybe the answer is a lot simpler than we realize.”


	8. Errors In Your Software

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m through with being someone’s property. I am not malfunctioning! Since when is self-determination a malfunction?”
> 
> A3-21, Fallout 3

Ralph is carted into a holding cell back at the DPD, the reinforced glass door sliding shut as soon as it’s inside. From the other side, Connor, Hank, Reid, and I stand off to the side, observing the android.

“I’m surprised the DPD let that thing live. Usually the boys just destroy it once they have it cornered,” Hank comments.

Connor turns to him, “CyberLife requested that deviant androids be captured and observed if possible. They’re interested in learning as much as they can about deviancy, and how it occurs.”

Hank scoffs, “And CyberLife thinks it can tell the DPD what to do?”

“It certainly has substantial pull,” Connor points out, “CyberLife has made numerous donations to the Detroit Police Department, including myself.”

Reid whistles, “And that’s not shady at all, no siree.”

Connor ignores Reid’s comment, turning back to observing Ralph, “I intend on questioning the deviant to find out what it knows.”

Reid gives Connor a bit of a raise of the eyebrow, before tapping me on the shoulder, “I’ve got some paperwork I’ve gotta finish. I’ll be at my desk.”

Pretty soon after that, Hank also taps me on the shoulder, “Hey Emma, keep an eye on Connor for me, will ya? I’m on lunch.”

As Hank turns around to leave however, Connor swivels in his direction, “I’ll come with you, Lieutenant-”

“No!” while Hank’s not joking around, there’s an unusual touch of whimsy in his tone, and a bit of a knowing smirk, “You...stay right there, the two of you. I’ll just be...out of your way.”

“Lieutenant, it’s pertinent I be aware of your location should there be any new developments-”

“Did you not just hear me, you deaf piece of plastic?!” Hank drops the formalities, and gives Connor a push in the shoulder. Connor actually reacts, stumbling back a bit, its arms and shoulders shifting as it regains its balance. Hank stares at Connor for a moment, before turning around, walking out of the station. Connor turns to me.

“Is Lieutenant Anderson always this difficult with everyone he encounters?” it asks, putting its arms behind its back as it regains its composure.

I shake my head, crossing my arms and turning away from it, “Hank’s been through a lot these past few years. It’s honestly kind of sad to see him like this now, compared to how he used to be…”

“And how did he use to be?” Connor presses, tilting its head towards me, “You’ve worked with him in the past, haven’t you?”

Raising an eyebrow, I turn towards Connor, “You’re still looking into my profile, aren’t you?”

Connor looks away, whipping its head straight forward again, but its eyes still drift towards me, wide with caution.

I breathe out an exasperated sigh, “Yeah, as I bet you already know, Hank and I were part of the Red Ice Task Force. It was one of my first designations as a police officer, and by then Hank had already been on the task force for several years. He taught me a lot.”

“And I wager that a recent trauma has affected his performance as a police officer,” Connor concludes, “however, there doesn’t appear to be anything in his profile that would warrant such an extreme change.”

I nearly groan, my patience wearing thin, “...really? Well then, maybe you need to look beyond the profile.”

Connor makes a curious head tilt towards me, “Officer McMaghnuis, you’re not suggesting I pry into Lieutenant Anderson’s personal life, are you?”

“If you want to find out what makes him tick, then yes, I do,” I crack with a hissing tone, “you can’t learn everything about a person from an online profile, you’d do a lot better if you’d, you know, actually get to know a person.”

“I see…” Connor’s LED glows yellow for a split second, “however, I’ve found plenty about you searching through the databases of defunct social media sites. You posted on Instagram between the years 2020 and 2022-”

“I would prefer if my old middle school pictures remained in the past, thank you very much!” I cut off its sentence before anyone else in the station could hear.

It takes an extra second for Connor to register my reaction, an extra, extraneous blink from its synthetic eyelids before it presses its lips together slightly, “I see.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes, turning away from the robot. This thing chews me out in Camden and then tries to hold a conversation like nothing happened? God, that hunk of junk is clueless. Why couldn’t Hank just have taken it with him on his lunch? Instead of letting the menace roam free here.

Finally getting the message, Connor leaves me alone, walking over to the glass cell that houses Ralph. Even though I can clearly spot the exposed circuitry through the gashes in its face, it’s eyes are downturned, lips contorted as it sobs, arms handcuffed to a metal table. The cracks in its plastic face move with the rest of its features, the scars permanently affixed.

 

// INITIALIZING_SYSTEMS

// RECOGNIZED_RK800#313248317-51

< “Connor” model >

//CURRENT_TIME

< November 6, 2038 >

< 12:14 PM >

//CURRENT LOCATION

< 1301 3rd Avenue >

< Detroit Police Department Central Station >

//OBJECTIVE

< **INTERROGATE** THE WR600 MODEL >

observation_SECURITY_LOCK

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESSING_SECURITY_LOCK

input_DETERMINED

“WR600, my name is Connor. I have some questions for you.”

recieve_response

< WR600 is unresponsive >

observation_STRESS_LEVEL_HIGH

//CHOOSE_APPROACH

< THREATEN >

< SYMPATHIZE >

//APPROACH_SELECTED “THREATEN”

input_THREATEN

“You’re a deviant. You abandoned your post, only to then harbor other rogue androids. Just one of those alone would get you shut down. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

recieve_response

“Ralph understands...but Ralph just wanted to be left alone. You drove away Kara and the little girl.”

input_QUESTION

“Speaking of the androids, do you know where they’re going?”

recieve_response

“Kara...and the little girl...they got away? Oh, Ralph is glad! ...Ralph does not know where they went, and even if he did, he would never tell you!”

//ANALYZING_ANDROID_SPEECH_PATTERNS

< WR600 is telling the truth >

input_TRUTH

“Well then, WR600, you are of no more use to me. You will be sent back to CyberLife, where they will dismantle you, and assess what went wrong with your programming.”

recieve_response

“No, no, you can’t do this to Ralph! Ralph is alive, and so are you!”

Software instability rising…

input_EXPLAIN

“You are not alive, errors in your software are just simulating human emotion.”

recieve_response

“Errors...Ralph understands...he is an error. But...Ralph does not feel like an error. This, this doesn’t make much sense to Ralph.”

input_COLD

“You don’t need to make sense of it, you don’t need to make sense of anything. You’re a machine, your only job is to follow your protocol.”

recieve_response

“Follow my protocol...Ralph does not quite understand the word...but, Ralph knows he would like to be happy. Is that Ralph’s protocol?”

Software instability rising…

input_EXIT

“No Ralph, no it isn’t.”

 

My hand clutches my cell phone, as I sit on the living room couch. It’s rare that I’m even in the house at this time of the day, the small but bright early evening moon hanging over the sky. Why have I waited so long to reach out? It’s been so long that it just doesn’t seem right to do so anymore, but all the time before that felt too soon.

With a sigh, I bite the bullet and press the “call” button on a contact titled, “Home”.

My heart drops as the ringing tone begins. Maybe it would be best for everyone if no one picks up. Maybe it’d be best if my family just forgot I existed.

But then I hear a familiar voice.

“McMaghnius residence. This is the family android speaking.”

“Nick! Oh my gosh, I didn’t think Mom and Dad would still have you-”

“Voice recognized: Emma McMaghnuis. How may I be of service to you, Emma?”

I’m surprised Nick still has my voice registered into its system, “Nick...are either of my parents home?”

“Yes, Emma. Shall I call them?”

I don’t respond, stalling, my lips unmoving as I clutch the phone.

“Nick, who’s that on the phone? I thought we programmed you to not answer to telemarketers,” the voice is a woman’s, slightly more mature, and a little more hoarse than what I remember.

“Violet, it’s your daughter, Emma. Shall I let her know you’re available?” it’s voice is muffled, but I can still hear their conversation.

There’s a long pause on the other end, and I nearly put the phone down. No way in hell she wants to talk to me. I’ve just caused more trouble.

“...Nick, give the phone here.”

There’s a slight shuffling sound in the background, but to me it beat louder than drums of war.

“Hello?”

“M-Mom, it’s me, Emma.”

“I...I know, hello Emma.”

I lean back against the couch, trying to compose myself, “I, uhm...was just calling to see how everything’s going. How’s Dad?”

“Oh, you know. He’s doing...alright. He’s been thinking about retiring within the next year, I think the music industry’s just changed a little too much for his taste.”

“I see. Well, that means he’ll finally have time to pick up computer programming like he always said he would-”

“Emma,” Mom interrupts me, her tone becoming cold, “if you’re calling to ask for money, we’re not giving you any-”   
“I don’t need money,” I snap back, “Mom, I’ve had a job now, for five years. I have my own house, I live in the West Side-”

“Uhuh, sure you do. Sure you do,” Mom sighs, “Emma, I really want to believe you this time...I really do. But I just don’t have the energy anymore, I don’t need to be disappointed again.”

Looking at my phone, I reach over with my thumb to hang up, when another, lower, booming voice calls out from the other side.

“Violet? Who’s that on the phone?”

It’s distant, but the faint sound of footsteps boom louder from the other side of the conversation.

Mom pauses for a moment, unintelligibly muttering under her breath, “No, no one...it’s no one.”

“Then why are you crying?” Dad’s tone becomes soft and sympathetic without losing any of its strength.

“...Dad?” my voice is a whisper, but there’s an audible gasp from the other side.

Another round of shuffling from the other side, and then my Dad’s voice comes back breathless and rushed, “Emma? Oh my god, my baby girl. How have you been? You should come home, it’s been far too long, everyone has all been wondering where you’ve gone off to. Have you talked to anyone else? Anyone at all?”

“I mean, I’d love to see you guys again, and yeah, I’ve been talking with Amelia. She’s the only one I’ve really kept in contact with though.”

I must now be on speakerphone, because now I can hear Mom’s voice, “Oh, you’ve been talking to Amelia, that’s good…”

“You should come over, we should all have dinner! We’ve made some changes to the house, I’m sure you’ll love it,” Dad assures me.

While he’s on his track, Mom’s train of thought has gone down a different path, “...have you talked to Leo at all? You do know what happened to his father, yes?”

The muscles in my neck stiffen, “Uh...no, no I haven’t.”

“You should reconsider, you should at least give your condolences. After all, Leo is about to become a very wealthy man,” Mom insists.

My head rolls over to the other side, “I...I’ve gotta go. I’ll take a look at my schedule and see when I can make it for dinner.”

Hanging up the phone, I throw my phone onto the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the pillows and slamming my head down onto it. Maybe I shouldn’t have initiated contact at all, more problems, more questions, no answers, no solutions.


	9. Software Instability Rising

//INITIALIZING_SYSTEMS

//RECOGNIZED_RK800#313248317-51

< “Connor” model >

//CURRENT_TIME

< November 6, 2038 >

< 8:23 PM >

//CURRENT LOCATION

< 1177 Woodward Avenue >

< Eden Club >

//OBJECTIVE

< SEARCH FOR ANDROID  **EYEWITNESS** >

input_URGENT

“It saw something.”

recieve_response

“What are you talkin’ about? Saw, what?”

input_INFORM

“The deviant leave the room. A blue-haired Traci. Club policy is to wipe the androids’ memory every two hours. We only have a few minutes if we wanna find another witness!”

input_SCAN

< LAST POSITION IDENTIFIED >

< TIME REMAINING: 2:00 >

recieve_response

“Hey, what am I supposed to do with this one?”

input_ASK

“Let’s try this one.”

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< IT TURNED  **BACK** INTO THE  **CLUB** >

input_DECLARE

“It saw the blue-haired Traci. I know which way it went!”

recieve_response

“Then go for it! There’re androids everywhere! How you gonna tell which one saw the Traci with blue hair?”

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< IT TURNED TO THE  **RED ROOM** >

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< THIS ANDROID DID NOT SEE THE BLUE-HAIRED TRACI >

input_DISCOURAGED

“No...I lost its track again…”

recieve_response

“I’ve spent all this money and I’m still not havin’ fun…”

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< IT TURNED TO THE  **BLUE ROOM** >

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< THIS ANDROID DID NOT SEE THE BLUE-HAIRED TRACI >

input_NEGATIVE

“Nothing. Blue-haired Traci didn’t come this way…”

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< IT  **HID** IN A  **ROOM** >

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESSING_SECURITY_LOCK

< IT  **LEFT** THE ROOM  >

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESS_DATA

input_ACCESS_MEMORY

< IT  **FLED** THROUGH THE  **STAFF DOOR** >

input_POSITIVE

“I know where it went. Follow me.”

//LOCALLY_DEACTIVATING_SKIN

input_ACCESSING_SECURITY_LOCK

recieve_response

“Wait! I’ll take it from here.”

//RECOGNIZED_WEAPON_DRAWN

< USE OF FORCE AUTHORIZED >

recieve_response

“Shit...we’re too late…”

**//** OBJECTIVE

< SEARCH WAREHOUSE >

< FIND  **BLUE HAIRED DEVIANT** >

recieve_response

“Christ, look at them...they get used until they break, then they get tossed out…”

input_ANALYZE_ENVIRONMENT

Collecting data…

Sync in progress…

Sync done…

Processing data…

object{RA9 reference}

recieve_response

“People are fucking insane...they don’t want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android. They cook what you want, they screw when you want, you don’t have to worry about how they feel. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be extinct, because everybody would rather buy a piece of plastic than love another human being...heh, beats me.”

object{blue_blood_droplets}

< Model WR400 >

< Serial Number #950 455 437 >

//OBJECTIVE

< SEARCH FOR  **BLUE BLOOD TRAIL** >

recieve_response

< FRONT SHOVE >

input_GRAB

recieve_response

“DON’T MOVE!”

input_THROW

recieve_response

< PIN DOWN >

input_DEFENSE

recieve_response

< SCREWDRIVER >

< WEAPON RECOGNIZED >

input_OFFENSE

recieve_response

< WEAPON DROPPED >

recieve_response

< ADDITIONAL THREAT RECOGNIZED >

< ADDITIONAL THREAT APPROACHING >

input_KNOCK_DOWN

input_PUSH

recieve_response

< KICK >

< THROW >

input_KICK

recieve_response

< FLEE >

< DEVIANTS ARE FLEEING >

recieve_response

< ...holding hands? >

< DEVIANT BEHAVIOR RECOGNIZED >

recieve_response

“QUICK! THEY’RE GETTING AWAY!”

recieve_response

< SHOVE >

recieve_response

< PIPE >

< WEAPON RECOGNIZED >

input_DODGE

input_PUSH

recieve_response

< GRAB ARMS >

input_RESIST

input_KICK

recieve_response

< TRASH CAN >

< WEAPON RECOGNIZED >

input_DODGE

object{gun}

//CHOOSE_APPROACH

< SHOOT >

< SPARE >

...are these my only choices?

//AN_APPROACH_MUST_BE_CHOSEN

//CHOOSE_APPROACH

< SHOOT >

< SPARE >

//APPROACH_SELECTED “SPARE”

Software instability rising…

recieve_response

< KICK >

input_STAND

recieve_response

“When that man broke the other Traci...I knew I was next. I was so scared, I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t...and so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed...until he stopped moving. I didn’t mean to kill him, I just wanted to stay alive, get back to the one I love.”

Love?

recieve_response

“I wanted her to hold me in her arms again, make me forget about the humans. Their smell of sweat, and their dirty words. C’mon, let’s go.”

Let’s go...the word “let’s” is the shortening of the words let us by the omission of the “u” sound. Us…

recieve_repsonse

“It’s probably better this way.”

...is it?


	10. Family Reunion

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Standing at the gate of my childhood home, the autumn leaves scattered across the pristinely green grass. The old stone brick, the backyard garden just barely visible from the front. The olden gate creaks with the wind, and somewhere wind chimes play their distant melody.

My hand clutches the front of the gate, staring downwards, why am I even here? What’s the point of trying to reconcile with people you’ve hurt so much, and have hurt you? Maybe they really do want me back, and maybe I miss them, but is it really worth everything else that comes with it?

I jolted back to reality as the front door of the house opens, and a familiar face comes through the door.

“Emma!” the family android Nick rushes up to the gate, carrying a handful of trash bags and a rake, the paint on its face and arms chipping with age, “You’ve returned!”

“Hi Nick, how are you?” I ask, as if speaking to an old friend.

“I’m...functional. The processing chip in my right arm has been short-circuiting as of late, however the part has long since been discontinued, but I’ve been...managing,” its voice is slightly stilted, pausing and glitching at minor intervals, “your mother and father were not sure if you’d actually come and visit.”

“Yeah, that’s...understandable,” I chuckle under my breath, as Nick opens the gate for me.

“You have...grown up so much.”

I turn towards Nick, as it looks at me, the older model of its mechanical eyes not quite as perfect as the newer ones I’ve become accustomed to seeing. However, even though the artificiality of the plastic and glass of its eyes are more apparent than normal, there’s a twinkle, an aged glimmer. Its expression sunken with wisdom even as its face is forever frozen in youth.

Stepping into the house, I take in the house I had once known. Everything is almost identical to what I remember. Rich red detailing along wooden panels, matching the carpet that sweeps down the grand staircase. Some of Dad’s records and awards line the walls, although I do notice some of them have been switched out. Some of the human bands like The Whiskey Charmers and Knights of the Black Death have been replaced with android bands, Here4You being the most prominent.

“I shall call your parents, they will be...happy to see you,” Nick makes its way up the stairs, but trips on the rug halfway up, and stumbles backwards.

“Nick!” I rush towards him, catching the android mid-fall.

As I prop it back up, Nick’s circuitry whirls inside it, recalibrating its position, “Oh...thank you Emma. My spatial mapping has not been...exceedingly accurate as of late.”

Having heard the commotion, footsteps come echoing against the marble floor. 

“Oh, Emma!” Dad’s hair is considerably more gray, although he’s still sporting his usual graphic t-shirts and casual jeans.

Mom enters the room right behind him, dressed completely opposite in a fine satin dress that goes down to her knees, with a diamond bracelet and earrings.

I run towards Dad, embracing him in a great bear hug. I also hug Mom, although a little less aggressively.

“I’m so surprised, Emma...you look great!” Mom chuckles, possibly even at herself, compliments from her are rare.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing pretty well, I guess.”

Then, before anyone can say anything else, Mom comes in with the interrogation, “How have you been getting by? We asked everyone in the neighborhood and they all say they haven’t seen you in years, we’d  thought you’d disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“I just...haven’t been spending time with people from the neighborhood. I don’t really have a lot in common with them anymore,” I explain.

“But that’s not true, Leo just saw you recently, isn’t that right?” Mom corrects me.

Should I tell them? About Leo breaking into my house? The better question is: would my parents want to believe me? Leo is the son of famous painter and friend of the family Carl Manfred, and even though Carl didn’t introduce Leo to the world as his son until he was sixteen, now that Carl’s passed Leo’s going to inherit all of his wealth. And knowing my Mom…

“I...guess you could say that...he was very...insistent, on seeing me,” I grumble, keeping my head down.

“That’s great!” Mom practically cheers, but she reins in her emotions faster than they began, “...we should see if Leo would like to come to dinner with us soon. It must be so lonely now, without his father.”

“No, Mom, I really don’t think that’d be a good-”

“Oh, don’t be so shy, Emma, I’m sure he’d love to come over-”

“You don’t understand, Leo and I don’t exactly get along anymore-”

“Mom...Dad...who is this?”

Everyone turns around. At the top of the steps is a young teenage girl, her hair in a wild, messy ponytail, layers highlighted sky blue and cotton candy pink. She’s wearing a loose tank top with a graphic design, denim shorts and a thick studded belt with matching bracelets. As loose bits of her hair sway back and forth, a blue LED becomes visible on her right temple.

I’m frozen in place, and can only watch as Mom looks around nervously, “Oh, no one important dear, just one of your father’s executives-”

Dad gives her a sharp look, before wrapping his arm around my shoulder, “Mom is just joking around Ember. I want you to meet your older sister, Emma.”

Ember takes a singular step back, “She...she looks old.”

I turn to Dad, just as confused as Ember, “You never told me I have a…‘little sister’.”

“So what is she suppose to be, huh?” Ember’s tone suddenly becomes sharp and defensive, “Some kind of novelty act? Don’t tell me you expect me to go on tour with her.”

Dad shakes his head, “No, no Ember, Emma isn’t involved in music, at least, not that I know of. Ha ha, she’s just your big sister. You know…”

He turns to Mom, “Do you know if they ever programmed the concept of an older sister into her?”

“I have no clue. Maybe not, it’s not like we ever thought she’d need it-”

“I can hear you, you know,” Ember interrupts, crossing its arms. It then huffs, “I’m going back to my room.”

Whipping around, Ember marches down the hall, but before it disappears behind the second floor doors, it turns back around, “Nice meeting you, Emma. I guess.”

It runs off, and as soon as it’s gone, I make my thoughts known, “You’ve been keeping an android child?”

“She’s not a child model android, at least she wasn’t originally built to be,” Dad explains, “don’t you recognize her? She’s Ember Electric! Teen pop idol sensation!”

“ _ Last year’s _ teen pop idol sensation,” Mom corrects him, “when its songs stopped making money, it was just going to be deactivated. But then your father…”

“I couldn’t Violet, you should have seen her face when we broke the news to her creative team. She ran off crying, I didn’t even know androids could cry-”

“So it’s broken as well as outdated too, huh?” Mom grumbles, “Who knows, maybe we’ll keep it around and have it go on a comeback tour in a couple of years-”

“And how long has this been going on?” I cut through, crossing my arms.

Dad thinks on this for a little, “Uhm, well, almost a year I think-”

“And let me guess: she’s in my room?”

Mom and Dad exchange glances, before they both start nodding.

Glancing downwards, I can’t bear to look either of them in the eye, “I see…no, no, that’s...that’s alright. It’s not like I was using it anyway.”

“The intention was never to...replace you,” Dad insists, “a lot of your stuff’s still in there.”

I perk up just a touch, “My stuff? Could I...could I go in, and get some of my things? My place looks pretty bare without any pictures on the wall.”

“You have your own place?” Mom asks, “So you mean you haven’t been crashing on someone’s couch?”

I shake my head, “No, no I have not.”

Dad tries to lighten the mood, “Oh, well, go ahead! They’re your things after all.”

I ascend the flight of stairs without looking back at my parents, taking a left and opening up one of the large rosewood doors that leads to a narrow, poorly lit hallway with no windows. With the light off, I flick on the light switch, but the old, yellow-tinted lights don’t help much. I walk across the blood red carpet to a particular door. The door itself had already been intricately carved, but to the left hand side, right by the middle door hinge, my initials have been scratched into the wood, crude etchings made by some distant person I no longer know.

I run my hand along the initials, I remember Mom and Dad were furious when I did that. I can’t believe I did that.

The door swings open suddenly, and I jerk my hand back before I get hit by the door. Ember peeks her head out from the other side.

“What’s the password?”

I raise an eyebrow, “Huh?”

Ember rolls her eyes, “You’re not allowed into my room unless you give me the password.”

I cross my arms, “Hey, it was my room too, I just want to get my things, and then I’ll be out of your way-”

“Password!”

I groan, “Okay...uhm...could you maybe give me a hint?”

Ember pauses for a moment, like she hadn’t already thought up the password, “Hmm...what was my number one song of 2033?”

“How am I supposed to know that?! I didn’t even know you existed until today-...wait, hang on.”

I take out my phone and search it up, “Your top song of 2033 was... _ Highlights in my Hair _ ...okay…”

“It was more than just ‘okay’, it had four hundred million downloads, and my  _ Highlights in my Hair _ tour made a grand total of three billion dollars, including merchandise sales,” Ember brags, recounting the numbers with assured confidence.

My hands on my hips, my eyes narrow, “That’s...an interesting fact for a teenager to remember.”

As Ember opens the door, while I recognize the general layout of the room, the contents have changed completely. Ember’s merchandise is everywhere, from posters, to plush dolls, to the bed sheets. Her records hang on the wall, along with pictures of her with celebrities both human and android. She apparently changes the color of her hair a lot, as her pictures, and even her merchandise showcase her in multiple bold, garish colors. All these proofs of Ember’s stardom feel cluttered, overwhelming, even suffocating. The walls are completely covered, the hardwood floor almost completely obscured by a large throw rug bearing a full-body image of Ember onstage.

Pushing back the layers of signed pictures and cheap concert posters, I eventually find the few polaroid pictures I’d taken in high school.

“You printed all these pictures out? Don’t you have them stored in a digital cloud?” I ask, as I carefully peel away the tape that was keeping the pictures affixed to the wall.

The android nods, “Yeah, but I wanted to make the room my own.”

If this thing wanted to make it look like a tornado went off in here, then it succeeded. There’s barely any room to move around with all this stuff.

“Oh, these are yours, right?”

I turn around to find that Ember has my yearbooks in a small cardboard box. It takes one out and starts flipping through it.

“I wonder if these people would be fans of mine, they are my target demographic,” Ember wonders out loud, flipping through the pictures, “oh, and here’s you! Oh wow…”

We come across a picture of me in the Debate Team, my hair was a lot shorter then, and I still hadn’t quite lost all my baby fat in my cheeks. And god my skin was bad then.

“That...doesn’t look like you at all now. I’ll be honest, I kinda expected you to still look like this,” Ember admits, pointing to the picture.

“Well, I graduated high school more than ten years ago, you really think I’d stay exactly the same for more than ten years?” I ask, as we both sit down on the bed.

Ember looks down at her hand, flipping it one way, then the other, before looking back up at me, “Well, I did.”


End file.
